Backlog of Blogs

Once again we have a significant number of blogs accumulating in our notebook. We'll try to get them posted when Luc is in Namaacha, near Maputo, helping with the new volunteer's Pre Service Training next week. We have a new office there with a permanent internet connection. Here in site electricity has become even more scarce with ESCOM, the Malawian utility we depend on in the border area, cutting power twice a week for the past month, leaving us in the dark on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Today is Thursday and we still don't have electricity. Some people have attributed the blackout to supernatural forces, claiming a ghost visited our neighborhood last night, but given the precarious state of our electric grid infrastructure, there is surely a more material explanation. Vodacom, our cell phone provider, was also out all last week, leaving us cutoff from the world and without any way to connect to the internet. We've been busy finnishing up the last
trimester this week, so we've had plenty of grading and preparations for national exams to keep up busy.

New Posts

We have had some trouble connecting to the internet lately, so we had accumulated several blogs.  We borrowed a little internet gadget from our school director that allows us to connect a computer directly to the web, so we took advantage to type up and send 8 of the blogs we had in our notebook at our school computer lab.  It is so much easier using a keyboard to digitize the data than using the cell phone number pad.  Three of the blogs are about our English theater competition which took place on September 18th, another one is a follow up to our neighbors death which occurred at about the same time, and another is about completing one year in country, which happened September 30th.  The rest of them are from the first couple weeks of October.  Sorry for the technical difficulties; we are just so happy that this technology exists. Blogging has provided us a way to share our experiences here in rural Africa with so many people back at home, it helps being on the other side of the world feel not so far away.

7th Day Ceremony

Last month we reported the tragic death of our neighbor and landlord, Mister Nelson, and how his family was left in limbo, not knowing what would become of his possessions, including the house they lived in and two rentals, including ours. A week after the funeral, his extended family held a 7^th Day Ceremony, in which they all gathered together and decided the fate of Marcelina, the widow, and her five young children. Traditionally, they would have all passed to Nelson's brother and become part of his family. Nowadays, polygamy is less accepted, so this was not considered a viable option. An uncle from the city wanted to sell the houses and split the money between the male relatives. This would have left Marcelina and her kids in a very precarious situation, and us without a home. Luckily, our neighborhood chief and some of the more reasonable family members prevailed with an alternative plan that let the family stay in their current home and live off the rent from the other properties. So despite the massive tragedy of losing Mr. Nelson, at least our neighbors will be able to continue to live an independent life with financial security, or at least as much as can be expected in rural Africa, instead of being condemned to destitution and dependence as is so often the case when a head-of-household dies so prematurely. Marcelina continues to mourn and lounge listlessly in the various shady spots in her yard, while girlfriends and family visit frequently to give her moral support. She publically blames her husband's death on witchcraft, which she claims some jealous relative comissioned, but like most people in town, she knows it was AIDS.

Biker Tom and Biker Pete

Living on a border crossing we periodically get visitors stopping over on their way to Malawi.  Since we're fairly isolated in our far corner of the country, we usually welcome these opportunities to catch up with friends or meet interesting travelers.  Something about being so far from home and having benefitted from our share of hospitality makes us more open to taking in strangers, plus they've usually been recommended through the PC network; we've never had any negative experiences with guests or anything from our house disappear. Our latest guests were two English blokes pedaling their way  across the continent from Durban, South Africa to Kenya. Surprisingly it's not the first time we've met long-haul cyclers. Cross-African bike trips seem to be all the rage, although locals here don't quite understand why they don't take a bus! We've greeted several foreigners biking through our town this year (including a couple on a tandem bike), but this was the first time we've hosted any and heard about the experience in depth. Tom and Pete were childhood friends from Suffolk County, England, who both had positive experiences volunteering in Africa, Tom as a teacher in Namibia, and Pete building shelters for slum dwellers in Kenya. Now they are cycling against malaria, helping distribute mosquito nets and health messages across Eastern Africa. They had visited several Peace Corps Volunteers on their way up the country, so we got to see some pictures and hear some news about our friends in far away sites.  Most foreigners in an obscure, out of the way country like Mozambique have an interesting story to share and many are involved in development projects or service, like us, so we tend to be compatible. Plus, hearing about positive experiences helps keep us motivated and gives us good ideas for what we would like to do in the future in our life after Peace Corps.

Going to Town

There are certain things we can't get or do in our site, which is somewhere between a village and small town on the amenities spectrum. Several tasks had been accumulating on our 'things to do in Blantyre' list, such as use the internet beyond emails (which is the limit to our cell phone-based service) and buy toilet paper. Most importantly, we wanted to try our luck at getting our airplane tickets home for Christmas break. To make the most of our day, we started early, leaving the border town on the 5:30am bus. Traveling on an actual bus has several advantages over mini-buses: it's safer, faster, cheaper, more punctual, and you actually get leg room. During the 2 ½ hour ride, we graded tests, a process that always seems to attract lots of attention and questions whenever we do it in public. Our few Chichewa phrases are usually enough to answer and get plenty of laughs. At this time of year in the southern hemisphere, jacarandas are in bloom, and Blantyre is full of these lavender beauties. Even with all the hecticness that comes with visiting the city, we still found some time to stroll a couple flower-lined lanes and sit leisurely at the Old Manager's House where a pleasant breeze dislodged blossoms that gently rained down on us. Our visit to the city was jam-packed with delicious food, chatting with a couple of PCVs we bumped into (we can spot our fellow volunteers), haggling with curio vendors over potential Christmas presents, and multiple stressful internet sessions focused on finding airfare within our budget. We were successful on all fronts, getting such specialty items as carrots, green beans, garbanzos, fresh ginger and honey. We even bought some frozen sausages and ground beef, packing them in an improvised cooler of newspaper and plastic bags. We spent every Kwacha we had, but luckily we had hidden the 860 Kw we needed to get back home. Janet found an authentic Indian food place right next to the Hindu temple, and we got a soft serve cone at our favorite ice cream dispenser. Luc even had time to go to part of a service at the only Mormon chapel in the entire region, even though he spent most of the time talking with the American and Zimbabwean missionaries there. Best of all, we got tickets home, flying through Dubai on Emirates Air. The Dubai to LAX leg is 17 hours, one of the longest flights in the world. The $2800 price (total) exceeds all of our living expenditures to date for a full year in Africa! So that was our action-packed trip – it might sound mundane to city folk, but each little activity is a special treat for those of us living in the bush.

Feeling the Spirit

The other night a group of Christian missionaries organized a loud rock concert on our soccer field, not far from our house. It was past our bed time, but the anomalous music intrigued us so we ventured out to investigate. Even though most of the villagers here are already Christian, missionary activity is still common, however the rock concert approach was a novelty. With large loud speakers and flood lights strapped to their Landover, these missionaries were well equipped to draw a crow in any rural African setting and they put on quite a show, with music, dancing, theater, and even some ballet with costumes and large flags. The spectators consisted mainly of our students and neighbors, who were glad to see us and eager to translate. For them this was just a party and pleasant surprise. Two of the missionaries, a Cuban and English couple, are based semi-permanently in Moz, and the other 5 foreigners were Americans on short term visits, along with about ten Malawians. We told them about our experiences as Peace Corps volunteers and they told us about their religious work. As they prayed for our success we realized that even if our messages and methods may differ, we are all driven by a deeper belief in service and the inherent value of all people and the desire to see a more fully realized humanity here in Africa.

One Year in Country

September 30^th marked our 1 year anniversary here in Mozambique. Having reached this milestone, and with our first school year coming to a close in a few weeks, we've been feeling reflective. So far we haven't come down with malaria, or been eaten by lions, or stepped on any landmines or been bitten by the deadly black mamba. Even though our experience so far had debunked some stereotypes of life in Africa, others have been reinforced – we have seen plenty of poverty, HIV and death and we have endured our own hardships too. Living in a far corner of such a big country has left us feeling isolated from our Peace Corps community, but we have developed a special relationship with Malawi instead. We have had moments when we wondered what we're really doing here and if we're making any kind of difference when facing such intransigent and systematic problems in our community and education system, and even considered just giving up and returning to our comfortable life in America. But we've also had a lot of positives this year. We've both grown and learned so much, even with all of our previous international work and formal studies in international education, working in a rural school in Africa has been transformative. We've learned a new language, (although Portuguese still seems like a dialect of Spanish to us) and had the opportunity to travel around the continent and see some amazing things. We celebrated our one-year anniversary at our little hillside restaurant, treating ourselves to a beer (Janet) and French fries with ketchup (Luc). One of our favorite students was waiting on our table, and he asked us in a very loving way if we could be his teachers again next year. So, on the whole, we're happy with our big adventure so far and proud of what we've been able to accomplish.

Teenagers being Teenagers

Some things about young people's lives are totally different here where we live. There are no video games, no learning how to drive, no part-time jobs at the local Cold Stone, no going to the movies or shopping at the mall, not really much in terms of typical teenage activities. In face the idea of adolescence is still relatively new here, traditionally the kids would go straight from childhood to being adults. One thing that is the same here, and probably world-wide, is the sometimes irrational, hormone-induced behaviors between members of the opposite sex. That is why almost every activity here is segregated by gender. Still, plenty of youth pregnancies, HIV infections, and drop outs from school all testify to the impulsive decisions and lack of big picture vision so typical at this age. Part of our co-ed trip to English Theater was making sure non of the boy/girl crazy youth entrusted to us got in trouble. This meant lots of summer camp-type rules and room checks. Despite our efforts at chaperoning, we had some major teenage drama explode our last night in Chimoio. We had been out celebrating the successful event before dinner and returned to find everyone upset and no one talking to each other. We had to all a major meeting before we could get the full story, which luckily turned out to be not too serious. Apparently there had been some breaking of the no boys in the girls' rooms rule, and even though they were fairly innocent visits, our teams felt that our town's reputation was at stake. One particularly incorrigible young lady from the big city living in our little rural town with her sister acted out of line and disrespected us. She had even arranged a lunch out with our mini-bus driver without telling us during out free time, while others visited the city or hiked the mountain, a very problematic activity in a culture where men enjoy seducing young ladies. She even used her chic modern allure to draw in one of our young 8^th graders into her sketchy activities. Luckily, we got hold of the situation before any irreparable damage occurred. We didn't want to punish anyone, just let all of our youngsters know how important their decisions are on the outcomes of their lives. Being a teenager is hard these days, no matter where you are growing up, but here in Africa life is so precarious even in the best of circumstances that there is an unforgivingly narrow margin for error. We felt a little bit like parents giving a stern lecture, but we have been so happy with our own life choices and we want the same for our kids here.

The Big Competition

On the big day, we all met at our school before sunrise. Our students wanted to actually sleep in the classrooms to make sure no one's late arrival delayed our departure, but we wouldn't let them. Despite our own exhaustion, we were there by 4a.m., and somewhat miraculously we were ready to go by 5am. Most of our kids have never left Tete province, so a trip to Chimoio is a big deal. They were so excited they sang and danced the entire 10 hours we spent on the bus (including 1 hour waiting to cross the ailing bridge over the Zambeze). For our rural students, many aspects of city life were novelties, like showers, restaurants, stores, and big crowds. Every time we are in Chimoio, we climb the nearby rock formation which looks like the face of an old man; we continued the tradition taking our group to the top of the moderate slope. Despite the urban distractions, our main purpose was to present our plays. The competition took place in an old Portuguese theater, with a real stage. With 14 schools participating, the presentations took all morning. Luckily we drew numbers 4 and 5, so we didn't have to go first, or wait too long for our turn. Our kids got nervous with the big crowds, but did a great job delivering their lines. Our little school, which only goes to 10^th grade, couldn't compete with the big city schools with teams stacked with 11^th and 12^th graders: our teams came in last and second to last place. We had asked the judges to announce only the top 3 places, but Mozambicans love to publically read everyone's exact position. Although all the PCVs, as Americans, thought this was terrible, especially for the bottom kids like ours, students here are used to this type of public reporting of results and weren't too phased. Our teams were proud to be the only ones with 8^th or 9^th graders and pointed out everything they had learned from the big schools.

Preparing for English Theater

As if our life in Africa wasn't busy enough, preparations for the big yearly English Theater Competition organized by the Peace Corps have usurped all of our precious free time since our return from vacation in mid-August until the event in mid-September. The Competition is designed to get students excited about learning English. This year's theme was 'Be the Change' and was meant to animate students' thinking about how to actively address HIV/AIDS and improve their lives. Since we would have to arrange private transportation to get to Chimoio where the competition is held, we formed two theater teams of 7 students each, enough to fill a mini-bus. Our kids love theater and regularly perform for the community. They have no trouble with hamming up a scene or putting together a storyline. But even our best students' rudimentary English skills needed a lot of work to sustain a 12-minute piece and some of our weaker students had to memorize their lines syllable by syllable. For weeks we practiced, sometimes mornings and afternoons to accommodate the school schedule, and every weekend. We patiently coached our actors' pronunciation, especially tricky phrases like 'birth control pill' and 'girl talk' or any other word with 'r' or 'th' sounds. After the first couple weeks we both knew every line of the plays, so we could stand in if our actors went missing for whatever reason. Our rehearsals drew a lot of attention, and usually by the end of each session the windows would be full of onlookers trying to catch glimpses of their classmates in funny costumes speaking English. Periodically our teams would have personality clashes, artistic differences and drama over who was missing practicing or holding up the group, but we survived. The final hectic days we had to get various permission forms typed, signed and stamped, including a highway pass our mayor had to approve, which sent us running back and forth across town.

Teacher Day

On October 12, 1981, Samora Machel, revolutionary hero and president of the Republic, officially sanctioned the ONP, national teacher's union, declaring educators instrumental agents for building the new nation and molding the new man. During that period of national conflict teachers were often the front line, representing the Marxist-Leninist government, and were often targeted by the opposition and even killed during the years of destabilization. Nowadays teaching is a safer profession but teachers still enjoy high status throughout the country. Every October 12th they are nationally recognized, and coming from America where there is no Teachers' Day, this was a special treat. Teachers' Day is a very big deal: our colleagues at school have been saving part of their salary for the past six months for this event. All the men got fancy ONP polo shirts and the women ONP capulanas (African wrap cloths) to wear on our day. The celebration consisted of all
the normal holiday events and confusion, including canceling school even though we're in finals week. We paraded through town, carrying banners and singing Teachers' Day songs, ending in the plaza where officials read speeches praising teachers and our youth group performed a particularly successful comic sketch about illiteracy. Everyone in town was very happy for us, congratulating us on our special day, many trying to get us to invite them to our feast. One of our favorite students presented Janet with a pair of lightly-used blue pumps she had bought for the occasion, which Janet proudly wore, despite developing nasty blisters. At our party we got to meet many of our colleague's wives and adorable children. We ate, danced and drank, us not as much as the others. At the end Janet was asked to cut the Teacher Day cake, a special honor here in Mozambique. Considering how hard we have worked as teachers this year, we appreciated this day's worth of
recognition.